


Dollhouse

by klarolineagainnaturally



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV), The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, Horror, Klaroline, Romance, ghost - Freeform, kcbingo2020, tvd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarolineagainnaturally/pseuds/klarolineagainnaturally
Summary: KCBINGO2020 Prompt: GhostKlaus liked to think of himself as a logical, but creative, man, but when he took to refurbishing an old house in Mystic Falls, he had no idea what he would find.
Relationships: Caroline Forbes/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 42





	Dollhouse

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a very adjusted version of a story that I actually wrote about ten years ago! The writing was awful (but I was twelve, so no surprise there), but the story was actually pretty awesome! It's only a drabble, but I hope you enjoy it!

When they pulled up to the house and the moss-laden, white picket fence came into view, Klaus had expected their final stop of real-estate to be run-down, an immediate ‘no’, but it was exquisite. It was a true piece of the American dream, the white pillars and curtained off windows so quaint in their design.

The real estate agent, a Ms. Fell, fiddled with the keys in the lock, her smile uneasy when she took a moment to get it just right. She finally prevailed and stumbled in with the door attached to her hand. She stepped aside to allow him passage.

Her voice echoed in the hallway, “Owner died a few months back. No one in town has the heart to buy it.”

He held his breath as he stepped into the house, expecting cobwebs and birds nests. Looking around, he realised his judgement had been terribly wrong. It was certainly a ‘fixer-upper’ but one that would be worth the effort.

Klaus turned to face her for a moment and asked, “No relatives?”

The place was still very much furnished and he had no interest in dealing with anyone coming back to reclaim what was ‘rightfully theirs’. The paperwork was a nightmare and the conversations were always on a sore subject.

“Unfortunately, her daughter went missing a couple years ago. It was a heartbreak for everyone; they were good people,” she mused, frowning as she pressed a hand to the topper of the stair rail.

Klaus hummed in acknowledgement but kept his focus on analysing the state of the peeling wallpaper. There seemed to be no rotting behind the flowery paper, even as he pulled at the edges. She guided him into the living room. All the furniture was covered in white sheets. He spotted a particularly interesting coffee table under one. By the intricate carvings on the side, it looked to be an antique.

“You said your family has ties to Mystic Falls?”

“Uh, yes, a few generations back,” he replied absentmindedly before raising an index finger. “I believe the Mikaelson mansion has been on the market for some time?”

Meredith’s eyes went wide and she exclaimed, “The mansion?”

“That would be the one.”

The Mikaelson mansion was an absolute marvel to look at, a true exercise in their family’s  _ expensive _ tastes. He had seen it in pictures and even visited it as a young child, but his father kept it as his own private getaway. After many years, he finally decided their family home was free enough of ‘bratty children’ to sell the property in Mystic Falls once and for all.

“Wouldn’t you rather take a look at that?” Meredith began to fumble her keys out of her satchel. “We can go there now—”

He was quick to hold up a palm, softly assuring her, “No, it’s quite alright. I believe my sister has an eye on it and I would rather not spoil her fun.”

“So you’re looking to settle down here?”

Klaus chuckled, unable to contain it. “Not at all. I flip houses in small towns,” he explained carefully as he took the lead in inspecting the stairs. They creaked but not any more than any other old house.

“Well then I will warn you that the attic is a  _ mess _ ,” she called up the stairs behind him. It was better that she didn’t follow him. A hovering estate agent only hindered his ability to visualise possible changes.

“All attics are,” he responded drily. With a heavy sigh, he took a few quick looks into each of the rooms and shrugged. It was an easy house, an easy profit to make. He took the stairs back down and clasped his hands together. “I’ll take it.”

As with all of the houses he refurbished, he felt it detrimental to the process to spend all of his time there, so with one stuffed suitcase, he set up camp in the bedroom opposite the bathroom. Meredith was very obvious in pointing out the past owner’s bedroom, and while he wasn’t concerned with any superstitions, something told him the second bedroom was the more appropriate choice.

* * *

He awoke slowly in the dead of the night, a reflexive groan leaving his lips as he turned over. He reached for his phone and squinted at the bright screen displaying the time. Four a.m.. He still had a few hours until he planned to get started on the house, but there was a muffled sound travelling into the room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stretched out his arms. He grumbled quietly; the bed had done nothing for his back. It was astonishing to him that someone had ever slept in it.

He dragged his feet along and his hand lay limp over the door handle as he turned it. When he pulled it back, he was greeted with the sight of a young woman across the way.

She was breathtaking, slowly swaying along the hallway as she hummed to the tune of Neil Diamond. She was pale, but there was a warmth in her voice and her movements were so effortless as her white dress fluttered around her.

“Who are you?” his voice was low as he gripped the edge of the door.

“Huh?” The young woman spun towards him, her blue eyes flying open with surprise. She took a long look at him, her eyebrows knitting together. “Whoa… You can see me?”

Her voice was light and airy, befitting of the beautiful face that he viewed in the dimmest light.

“Of course I can,” he answered calmly, “and you’re trespassing.”

“Wait…” She leaned on one foot and tousled her hair, her reply cautious, “You’re...you’re, like,  _ human _ ?”

“Human? What are you talking about?” Klaus tilted his head, his eyes tensing as he took in the sight. Either he was dreaming or he was finally losing his sanity, and the way her presence only soothed him, it seemed the latter was more likely.

“Oh my god,” she giggled, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Her blonde locks cascaded down the front of her white dress. “I can’t believe this!”

He was taken back by her sudden burst of energy and pressed his lips in the confusion of it all. “I don’t follow, sweetheart.”

“I’d been trying and trying but no one ever saw me. Not like this anyway—”

Klaus interrupted her clear intent to ramble with a sigh, “Can you please explain to me why you’re here?”

“Where do I start?” The young woman opened her arms out, a wide smile spreading on her face. “I mean… This is crazy! What’s your name?”

He was apprehensive at first, but the way her face lit up with hope was just his undoing. “Klaus.”

“Klaus…” she repeated slowly, giggling once again as her tongue rolled out his name. With another bounce she finally sighed, “God, it feels so good to talk to someone…”

“May I ask your name?”

The girl bit her lip, seemingly shy at the request. “Caroline.”

Caroline. 

It suited her.

Caroline’s smile suddenly became strained and she took a half-step forward. “You need to go into the attic.” The air around them was still as her voice dropped into a hush.

“What?”

“The attic.”

* * *

When the sun came up, he struggled to keep his eyes open. The events of the night had so obviously been a dream, but as he stumbled along the hallway, it caught his eye. The little cord that dangled from the hatch of the attic was staring right at him and it all became so clear.

Klaus gave it a little tug and the ladder came falling with a thud. He jumped back just in time and inspected the first step with the press of his foot. It felt sturdy enough, maybe not the best, but it could hold him.

He climbed and pulled himself up into the dusty attic with one heave against the flooring. It really was a mess. There were old Christmas decorations strewn from their boxes and bags of clothes labelled ‘charity’. One box in particular caught his eye. The cardboard was etched with black marker: Caroline’s things. He swallowed gently but laughed off any notions in his head. 

Still, he crouched down and opened it. There were a few battered toys, a dress or two, and binder covered in glitter and stickers that spelled ‘senior prom’. It was a sweet craft and he couldn’t help himself from taking a peek inside.

His thoughts came to a standstill when he opened to a page of a familiar blonde girl in a red prom dress, eyes wide and full of life.

Klaus chuckled and muttered a ‘no’. It was an easy conclusion after all; he must have sleep walked in the night, found the box and done some rummaging. Of course, the real estate agent had mentioned the attic and it planted the thought in his head.

That was definitely it. 

He set the book down and stood up. He was certainly silly for following the words of a ‘dream’ if it even was that.

Klaus sighed into the silence and took one last sweep of the attic. Though indeed messy, there didn’t seem to be anything of use to him in there.

He resolved to begin his work on the house, but when he stepped along, he felt and heard the loud creak under his feet. He looked aside with squinted eyes. He paused and wobbled a little against the floor. It was an unmistakable sound of a loose floorboard.

Klaus was quickly on his knees, searching for the breach. He held his breath when he found it and slowly propped the board up against his fingers. There could be anything inside from a secret stash of money to dead rats, but nothing could have prepared him for what he found.

When he viewed the contents, his head filled with panic and he pushed himself back along the boards until his back hit a stack of empty boxes. As the dust floated down onto him, he took a deep breath.

It was her, but it wasn’t, but… It was a doll.  _ A porcelain doll _ . It looked so real with the skin painted perfectly with a touch of peach in the apples of her cheeks. Her bright blue eyes stared straight up at the ceiling. Caroline.

“Jesus...Christ.”

**Author's Note:**

> **COMMENTS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED**
> 
> Like I said, this is based on an old story I wrote, though I never finished it. There were some adjustments but I hope you guys love this!


End file.
